Title: The CIty

Author: Desi

Summary: AU. Dom meets the most fascinating woman on vacation in New York City, but never gets her number. And he'll probably never see her again. One-shot. For Lalaloopsy girl.

Disclaimer: If it's familiar, I don't own it ... whatever, I'm not bitter about it (read as: I'm super bitter about it.)

A/N: For Lalaloopsy girl; sorry it took so long, love. Title is taken from a song by The 1975. Enjoy!

February 14, Manhattan, New York, Friday, 3:21PM

The line at Starbucks was disgustingly long. If Dominic hadn't partied until the wee hours of the morning and wasn't sporting a massive hangover, he would have left the overcrowded coffee shop and weathered the freezing New York winter in search of another. But as it were, he wanted to do nothing more than to order a trenta-sized caramel cappucino with three shots of espresso and no foam.

"Welcome to Starbucks. What can I get for you?" The Asian college-aged student behind the counter asked.

Dom placed his order, gave his name and paid before moving towards the designated waiting area. Scrolling through his phone, Dom's order took nearly ten minutes to complete.

"Dom!" A barista shouted. Dom put his sunglasses back on his face, squeezed through the throng of people and grabbed his coffee from the counter, then made his way out of the coffeehouse, taking a sip of his drink.

"Mm!" He hummed, disgusting. "What the hell is this?"

Dom inspected the white cup and swallowed the milky liquid he just drank. The cup had "Have a kick-ass day, Letty!" written quickly in black marker.

"Eight bucks and I get the wrong coffee." Dom muttered, turning around and heading back to the shop. Just as he was pulling the door open, someone was pushing it.

"Shit! I'm sorry. I didn't see... you." The brunette's apology turned breathy when she saw Dominic standing in front of her. Her dark aviator sunglasses shielded her eyes from her assessment of him. "Sorry."

"It's no problem at all."

"I'd rethink going in there. It's crowded and I just got the wrong coffee. Apparently," she looked at the cup again, "Cara would like Dom to call her."

"Well, I'm Dom." He offered his hand for a shake. "Should I assume that someone wants you to have a," he stopped to read his cup, mimicking her action, "kick ass day?"

The brunette's hair whipped around her face. "That definitely makes me Letty." She shook his hand. "I'd give you the cappuccino back but I already drank from it."

Dom held up his mistaken cup. "Speaking of coffee, this is not it."

Letty smirked. "It's black tea with milk, a splash of creamer and honey."

"That's disgusting." He teased.

"Hey, Mr. Caramel Cappuccino, am I criticizing your heart attack in a cup?" Letty shot back.

"And yet you still walked out with it."

"I don't have time for anything else." She glanced at her watch. "Shit. I've gotta go. It was nice meeting you, Dom." She offered her hand again and he shook it.

"Likewise, Letty."

Letty turned to the right and Dom turned to the left, and they passed each other by as they went their seperate ways.

XXX

"Come on, DT! Lighten up! It was just a girl!" Roman teased. He pushed a double shot of Jose Cuervo into Dom's hand. "Take this shot. Lighten up. And take your pick." He gestured to the dozens of women on the dance floor; a few of them were staring in the two men's direction.

"Bottoms up." Dom conceded and saluted Rome with his shot glass before knocking it back.

XXX

April 22, Los Angeles, California, Tuesday, 12:41PM

"Hello? Anyone here?" A woman's voice called out.

Dom rolled out from under the car he was under, wrench still in his hand. "Ye-. You."

"And you." Letty replied, crossing her arms over her chest. She was clad in a white tank top and light blue jean shorts to ward off the spring heat. Her feet were inside of untied, black combat boots. Sunglasses had been pushed to the top of her head where her wavy locks cascaded down past her shoulders.

Looking down at him, she smirked.

"What brings you to LA?" Dom asked as he stood up.

"I live here." Letty gave him a once-over. "And from the looks of things, so do you."

"That I do. I own this garage."

Her eyebrows raised. "A grease monkey, huh?"

"That's me." He confirmed.

"Hm."

"So... what are you doing here?"

"I think we already established my state of residence." Letty replied with a shit-eating grin on her face.

"Funny. I meant in my shop."

"A friend of mine worked on my car for me."

"A friend of yours?"

"Yeah, Jesse."

"You know Jesse?"

"They didn't teach information retention in auto-mechanics class, did they?"

"You should take your little act on the road."

"Hm-hm." Letty hummed, smiling proudly. "Anyway, is the sixty-nine Road Runner ready?"

It was Dom's turn to raise his eyebrows. "That's your car?"

"Yeah."

"Nothing like American muscle, huh?"

Giving him a once-over, Letty replied, "I'll refrain from answering."

"Why's that?"

"I'm no fool to a double entendre."

"Can't blame a mechanic for trying." He smiled a charismatic smile that Letty found herself enamored with. "I'll check the paperwork on your car."

"Thanks."

And while he did just that, Letty took a look around the garage. There were a few framed pictures of Dom and a taller, more muscular version of himself.

Obviously, his father, Letty mused.

The same man was in pictures of a thin, brunette with extremely long hair and a gorgeous, broad smile. His wife? Daughter? Either way, they were always in front of a car. Not just any car; a 1970 Classic Dodge Charger R/T. The detailed bodywork that went into the car was absolutely breathtaking.

A man after my own heart, Letty worded inwardly.

"See something you like?"

Turning around, Letty was pointing at the picture. "Who's R/T?"

"My dad's. Thing scares the shit out of me, but it was the first car I helped him build from the ground up."

"That's must have been fun." Letty found herself picturing a smaller version of Dom, standing on a stepstool handed his father a wrench here or a screwdriver there. She smiled.

"It was." He shrugged. "Still is. He still thinks he can school me every now and then."

"I don't doubt it." Crossing her arms, Letty nodded to the piece of paper in his hand. "That for my car?"

"Yeah, uh," rubbing his bald head, he handed it over to her, "I'm only charging you for the labor."

"Oh yeah, why's that?" She smirked as she took the paper from his hands, looking over the detailed summary of what was completed.

"I'm a Good Samaritan."

"Who thinks he has a chance with me." Looking up, she pulled a few credit cards from her back pocket and handed him a Visa.

They walked over to the cash register for Dom to ring her out.

"Well, I'm just saying: I'm a gearhead. You're obviously a gearhead. It's only fair we go out. If only for our future grease money children."

Letty raised her eyebrows, completely amused. "Already planning kids, are we?"

"Well, you know." He shrugged again, placing the receipt in front of her for her signature. "Always have to plan ahead."

"I find you amusing, Dom." Letty responded, giving him the receipt back. She took her credit card, keys and paperwork and started towards the horizontal sliding garage door.

Dom looked down at the receipt she signed along with her number and a small smiley face.

"Call me." She tossed the phrase over her shoulder as she pulled her aviators back over her eyes and crossed over the threshold of the garage.

Fin.